


Burden Of A Parent

by allonsysilvertongue



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Irondad, Other, Post Infinity War, spiderson, stephen being there for peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-04 00:23:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14580888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allonsysilvertongue/pseuds/allonsysilvertongue
Summary: Peter Parker wakes up in a different place and as he tries to understand the situation, he finds himself in a one way contact with Tony Stark





	Burden Of A Parent

**Author's Note:**

> I have always been writing from Tony's POV so time to switch it up! I don't really read the comics so whatever I wrote, it's from the MCU movies and this is what I imagine is like post-thanos snapping his fingers for those who didn't survive.

 

** Burden of A Parent **

There was a fleeting moment after he blinked awake when Peter felt  _whole_  again before it disappeared the moment he remembered. He surveyed his surroundings, checked that there were still ten fingers and toes, tested his motor functions, jumped up and down and pressed his fingers on his face.

All of him was here but hadn't he disintegrated?

Was that all a dream?

Yet, something felt different – not bad different, an unexplainable sort of different. He felt as if his entire being was  _hovering_ , as if he was here and yet, not. He wasn't alone, there were other people here. None of them was familiar to him so he walked. Peter travelled for what seemed like days but time, he began to notice, was different too.

Everything was different here.

 _Where is here?_  He wondered that out loud as he walked.

Nobody he asked could give him an answer but sinners and saints they were all in the same place. He felt desolate, alone and confused.

"Mr. Parker."

Peter swiveled at the sound of his name and nearly stumbled on his feet to approach the man. His heart was soaring.  _Finally_.

"Dr. Strange," he breathed out. "I'm so glad to see you. Where – Where are we? Where is Mr. Stark?"

"He is not here," Dr. Strange answered and Peter thought it odd that he sounded quite confident when there were thousands, maybe millions of them, here. Maybe they just haven't found him. "What is the last thing you remembered?"

 _Other than falling apart…?_ Peter wanted to ask but thought better.

"I – uh -" he scrunched his face. "Mr. Stark was there and I – "

He had apologised. He remembered knowing and feeling that he had reached the end of his line, and he had apologised.

"Are we dead?"

It had been bothering him. He didn't feel dead. Or at least, he didn't think death was supposed to be this way.

"Not quite," Dr. Strange replied, still in that calm voice and Peter didn't think he was going to get more of an answer from him.

Peter wandered sometime, around New York.

It was weird, he thought, that wherever they were, it somewhat still looked like home. The bodega was still there. His school was still there.

Dr. Strange had told him that it was a tether, a central pull to something familiar.

This half of the population, they were existing at some place different. Peter had heard several varying theories that tied with the six individual stones working together to create  _here_  – different pocket of dimension, different plane of existence, a world where souls dwells, different reality where time worked differently – but none of it mattered to him. At the end of the day, he was still here, unable to interact with anyone who had survived.

He hovered between his existence and theirs, stuck in a limbo.

One day, Peter wandered upstate.

Before he knew it, he was staring up at the Avenger's Facility in the same awestruck expression when he first came by with Happy.

"You hear them?"

Peter shook his head.

"Pay attention," Bucky said, clasping his shoulder. He pushed Peter forward slightly as he tilted his head. "And you'll hear."

Curious, Peter asked, "Who do you hear?"

"Steve," the man replied, clenching his jaws. "You've got those heightened senses, right? Should be easier for you…"

It intrigued him so Peter spent his time loitering around the compound trying to focus on hearing something, much to Dr. Strange's chagrin.

Then one day it happened.

"Mr. Stark?" Peter started, shocked.

He was sure he had just heard the old man. That was Mr. Stark's voice.

"FRI -" the voice wavered out of range. "Dim the – FRIDAY."

Peter gave out a bark of laughter. For the first time since he came to be here, he felt something akin to joy blooming in his chest.

The more he focused and listened in, gleaning bits and pieces of conversations, he began to piece it together.

While Peter might feel like he had been here for an eternity, the events were still quite recent for those who survived. He gathered that Mr. Stark was in the hospital, recovering. He heard Captain America visiting him in the hospital room at times. There were other visitors as well, but he couldn't identify who they were, not from voice alone. Dr. Banner, he assumed was one of them.

 _At least the Avengers made it,_  he smiled.

The first time Peter sensed Tony Stark, his heart nearly gave out. He hadn't heard the old man but he sensed his approaching presence.

"Something's happening," he more than hop in excitement in front of Dr Strange as he shared his experience.

He thought maybe, just maybe, the barrier that separated him from the survivors were thinning and they would all make it out of there.

Then Peter began to realise that with the ability to sense came the burden of knowledge.

 _"Just a kid, Banner,"_  Peter heard  _and_  felt this terrible feeling in his chest, something dark and heavy, something akin to guilt.  _"… shouldn't be there…. Couldn't protect…"_

His mentor was grieving. Tony was mourning and  _his_  name – Peter – passed his lips more often than not.

_Peter's suit._

_Peter's apartment._

_Peter's photo._

_The kid's this, the kid's that._

_Funeral._

Peter gasped, and bolted as fast as he could to Dr. Strange. Even distance seemed to be a blur here.

Stephen Strange was meditating when with an apology, Peter shook him.

"They are planning funerals," he breathed out. "We  _are_  dead."

"I doubt that very much."

"What? The funeral or that we are dead? We aren't dead, are we? I don't feel it."

Dr. Strange fixed him with a look.

"How does dead feels like, Mr. Parker?"

"Well, I don't know," Peter threw both hands up. Sometimes, talking to this wizard could be exasperating, more so than talking to Mr. Stark.

"It is strange how we went," Dr. Strange said, more to himself. "This could be our soul."

"What?" Peter frowned. While he didn't really feel solid, he had seen enough horror stories to know he definitely wasn't a ghost. He touched his hand and it did not phase through. "It doesn't matter. We're  _here_. They could just… if they could just come and get us. There shouldn't be any funerals. All these people, they're  _not_  dead," Peter insisted.

"It is not that easy, Peter. Those who survive, they will have to find a way. Thanos needs to be defeated and those stones… they will have to understand each stones. All the stones together -"

"Erased half the universe," Peter interrupted. "You don't understand. Mr. Stark – "

"Tony will figure out a way. He has to. I ensured his survival for this reason."

Peter tilted his head.

"Dr. Strange, I think he is blaming himself for what happened… for failing to save the world, to save me."

The wizard stood there looking at him but offered no words of comfort. Peter didn't think it was in his nature either way.

"I – I just wished there's a way for me to tell him that I don't blame him. I made my choice to stay with him on that ship."

"He still feels responsible for you, no matter what choices you made," Dr. Strange said. "That is the burden of a parent."

"I'm sorry?"

"Surely it is obvious? He cares about you as you do about him."

"Yes but – "

"Sometimes family is an aunt and a quick witted snarky billionaire, Mr. Parker. Not often does blood have to be a factor."

He had always thought highly of Mr. Stark, had admired him since he was a young boy. He had lost his parents and his Uncle Ben, and Mr. Stark was the only other person aside from Aunt May who truly looked out for him. Often, he felt he might be a bother to the old man, always asking about his next mission, hacking the multi-million suit that Mr. Stark had given to him and being all around stubborn. He always feared that one day, Mr. Stark might draw the line and leave. Peter just never imagined that it was  _him_  who left.

If he could only communicate … let him know that he was here…

Despondent, Peter slid to the floor, drawing his knees to his chest. He propped his chin on his knees, looking miserably into the distance.

"I wanted to be like him," Peter spoke. "He wanted me to be better and I – I keep trying to every day. Do you think it's too late now?"

"Don't despair, Mr Parker."


End file.
